


The Other Side of the Door

by freckliephil



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009!phan, Depression, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Illness, long distance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:53:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckliephil/pseuds/freckliephil
Summary: "He takes another breath and tries to extend a hand to grab something, anything, to give to Phil, because Dan needs him right now. He needs Phil to continue to breach the barrier between this and that."





	The Other Side of the Door

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil something that was born out of a really bad morning. thanks to katie for beta reading this for me!

It’s cold in his room. 

It’s below freezing, and he should really be wearing more than a hoodie and his underwear, or at the very least he should be under the covers, but his blankets are on the floor and his dresser is across the room. His legs are lead and the rest of his body is even heavier, his brain a swirling mass of bullshit that he can't even decipher and.

He just. Can't move. Can't bring himself to care. 

There's a sound that he barely registers from outside of his bedroom, probably his mum making dinner or his dad trying to find something to eat. It's near silent but it's also blaring, a reminder that life is still happening for other people, even if his own life has been put on pause by unknown forces. 

His head hurts. Realistically, he could try to go to bed. It's late enough that he could probably sleep through the night, especially on one of these days where moving his body seems like a burden put upon him. He knows it won't work though. He's cold and his head hurts and his eyes ache and he's in that terrifying place of existence where he feels too tired to go to sleep. 

It doesn't make sense. He wishes a single fucking ounce of it made any sense. 

A knock at his door some time later, he's not sure how long because time exists separately from this world he's trapped in, and Dan doesn't have the energy to respond. Another knock, a loud call of his name on the opposite side of the door, the side of the door where people talk and eat and sleep normally all the time instead of just sometimes, and then he's alone again.

He's not surprised his mum hadn't tried harder to reach him. He feels like maybe he should be upset by it, if feeling anything was something he was capable of, but it's fine. It's not like he's ever given her a reason to think she could get to him when he's like this. 

The next time he shifts his eyes to the clock on the nightstand it's two in the morning, and for the first time in a few days he feels something in his body and brain other than numbness and exhaustion. He feels fear. 

The fear is molten, burning at his skin and making him squirm. He needs to move, to feel something other than numbness. He feels himself slipping, losing his grip on himself and reality as each minute passes by without acknowledgement. He needs an anchor, and quickly, because time can’t hold him in place and neither can the emptiness. 

He feels a fear that crackles like sparks through his veins, all the way through his body and straight to his fingertips as he reaches blindly for his phone. He’s praying to whoever is listening that it has enough battery. He doesn't think as he finds the contact he's looking for, his mind racing with the sudden shift from feeling nothing to feeling this hot, furious terror that tells him he won’t be here much longer. 

"Hello?" 

The voice on the other end isn't enough to make the fear and the emptiness and the exhaustion go away, but it does reach him. This voice, low and raspy and clearly having just woken up from a deep sleep, it somehow penetrates whatever barrier that’s keeping him from the world he can see but doesn't know how to be a part of. Not when he's like this. 

"Phil." He says, noting how scratchy and wrecked his own voice sounds. The fear kicks up a notch as he remembers that he hasn't used his voice or moved his body in over 24 hours. 

"Dan, what's wrong?" Phil asks frantically. Dan wants to answer so badly, to tell him everything about how he's scared and he's trapped and how much he just wants out. 

He can't move the muscles in his throat any more than he can move the rest of them, apparently. He tries to take a breath in, but it's shallow and ragged even though he doesn't feel like crying. 

"I'm..." he trails off. There's too much to say, too much he can't access. All the words are in another world, the one on the other side of his door with his mum and the dinner table and the other things he can't get to when he's like this. He takes another breath and tries to extend a hand to grab something, anything, to give to Phil, because Dan needs him right now. He needs Phil to continue to breach the barrier between this and that. "Sorry."

It's quiet for a minute and panic starts to bubble up in Dan's throat. He needs Phil to stay.

When Phil speaks it's gentle. "Are you having a bad night, Dan?" 

It's soft and it's delicate and it's everything Dan doesn't deserve, not right now and not ever. His voice is honey in warm tea and it's a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Phil's voice is the memory of how the other side of the door will be there when he comes back from wherever he is now. 

"Yes." He says, and he doesn't have to force it out. For the first time in however long, the word falls from his lips without needing to be dragged. "Can...you talk to me?" 

"Always," Phil says, and he talks and he talks and he talks, about his day and a new video and his parents and his ideas for the future, and Dan can hear it and feel the words wash over him. They don't fully sink in, but a few manage to stick to the top of it, waiting. Phil's really good at talking. 

Eventually Dan looks back at the clock and sees that they’ve been on the phone for an hour. Phil yawns on the other end, and Dan’s body surprises him with his own yawn. 

"Sleep?" Phil asks, and Dan nods because he still forgets sometimes that Phil's not next to him. Phil is hardly ever physically there, but he's always always always with Dan in some capacity lately. 

"Together?" Dan asks, already knowing the answer. He puts his phone on speaker and places it right next to his pillow as he closes his tired eyes. 

"'Course." Phil says, "I love you."

"I love you too. Thank you."

He falls asleep with Phil's breathing in his ear and the knowledge that he probably won't be okay when he wakes up, but that it's fine as long as he can reach Phil from wherever he ends up.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Go give it a reblog on tumblr here, and feel free to come say hi! i love new friends and chatting. :)


End file.
